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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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Songs and Sonnets. 



JOHN HOWELL. 




SONGS AND SONNETS 



BY 



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JOHN HOWELL 




LOUISVILLE, KY. 

John P. Mokton and Company, Printers. 

1887 



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Copyright, 1887, 

BY 

John P. Morton and Company. 



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CONTENTS. 



: The World of Books, 5 

; /T^he Society of Friends, 6 

Faith in Spring, 7 

A Wanderer, 8 

The High Hills of the Santee, . . . . lo 

Flowers, ii 

The End of Winter, 12 

October, 13 

Longings, 14 

Indian Summer, 15 

Beauty, 16 

The Children's Hour at the Lake, ... 17 

Arabia, 19 

The Coming May, 20 

The Jerseys, 30 

A Baby King, 31 

The Ocean of Time, 32 

Unbound, • • 33 

The Cruise of the Vesper, 34 

Fantasy, 35 



Contents. 



Friendship, 37 

Shakespeare, 38 

Light, . 39 

Napoleon, 40 

Miracles, . 41 

October, 42 

Helen, 43 

Our Red Neighbors, 44 

A King in Death, 46 

The First Christmas, 47 

Thought and Action, 48 

The Rosella, 49 

Clara, 51 

In the Woods, 52 

The Reapers, 53 

Music, 54 

Ethel, 55 

The Poet of the Past, 56 

Thermopylae, 57 

Workmen, 58 

Rest, 60 

Fairy Islands, 61 

On the Sea, 62 



SONGS AND SONNETS. 



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THE WORLD OF BOOKS. 




HEN Slander's many tongues raise hue 

and cry, 
And neighbors in the street have stony 
looks, 
We may contentedly let them pass by, 

For we can find a better world in books. 
We here may seek the great mind's inner 
thought ; 
These silent pages thirst not like a pack 
Of sleuth hounds, hunting us to death for 
naught. 
But rest forever silent at our back. 
We here may with Ulysses wander far. 

Or with the gentle poets muse and sing, 
Or follow the bold traveler who saw 

The sun ne'er set, but to the heavens cling. 
So if the smaller world shall Hke us less, 
We may within our solitude find rest. 



Songs arid Sonnets. 




THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 

EIGHBORS of a higher life, 
Hoping for a perfect peace, 
Working silent in this night, 
Waiting for the strife to cease. 

Gentle, like the Prince of Peace, 
Lowly, as we all should be, 

Saving for the rainy day. 
Giving alms in charity. 

May your gentle precepts spread 
To the busy mart, the den 

Where the wolves of commerce feed 
On the fattened lambs of men. 

Pleasure flees when we pursue, 
But she comes to them that wait, 

And our gentle neighbors meet 
The sweet goddess at the gate. 

Spirit mild of sweet content 

Comes to bless the meeting, free, 

Calms the waves of discontent 
On the raging human sea. 



Sonsrs and Sonnets. 



Let us banish from our lives 

The vain love of pomp and show, 

For this childish, false display- 
Causes much of human woe. 



FAITH IN SPRING. 

AYLIGHT and Spring shine on the 
world, 
Tho' to our vision all seems night; 
Sweet Spring to us will be unfurled, 

Its sleeping flowers start up in sight; 
The winter white will show us soon 

The budding landscape, fresh and sweet. 
Like children rushing in a room, 

And with their kisses our gloom greet. 
Spring will come, with its bursting flowers 

And flutt'ring breath, will light the lands. 
Remember in deep midnight hours 

Sunlight rests on far ocean sands. 
Have faith in Spring, in darkest hours 
Birds are singing afar in bowers. 




Songs and Sonnets. 




\ 
\ 
A WANDERER. 



HONOR both the brave and free, 
And love the glorious liberty 
The broad seas always give. 
The world's a grand broad field to roam; 
The land so firm; the sea, its foam 
To sail far o'er and o'er. 
To visit every land and shore ; 
To carry home in Triumph's car 
The Roc's egg, treasure rare. 
The air so free, to be as it ; 
To bring home laden in the ship 
The spoils of Indian seas. 
To bear home pearls and sandal woods, 
The rarest gems, the costly goods 
From Eastern island shores; 
To sing the songs sung by the brave, 
To right the wrongs, to sail the waves 
Till plunged beneath the deep ; 
To have a sepulcher so old, 
Old Neptune's vaults will never hold 
A more devoted soul. 
The sea will take its wanderer home 
Beneath its blue, under the foam 
To find a watery grave. 



Songs and Sonnets. 



The smooth green plain will be the strand 

More broad than any monarch's land 

Upon the world's broad face. 

The sea so wide, there 's room to rove, 

Till down in grottoes and in groves 

The wanderer finds a home. 

To sail away in skies and seas. 

To breast the waves, to rock so free, 

To rove the watery world. 

To never know the bonds that hold 

The spirit fast within the fold 

Of Fashion's crowded aisles. 

The sky above, the sky beneath, 

The air so blue ; under my feet 

The gallant carrier bark. 

To say good-bye, the breeze is high, 

To sail away under the sky. 

Until the blue waves that I roam 

Shall flow above my head. 




lo Songs and Sonnets. 



THE HIGH HILLS OF THE SANTEE. 

N this quiet upland country, 

Where the sweet savannahs blow, 
Where the woodland hum is music 
And the shadows come and go : 

Here the tired and weary worker 
Comes to take his final leave, 

Comes to hear the river running, 
Far away from friends who grieve. 

Here the sons of Carolina 
Have secured a stepping-place 

From the well-beloved plantation 
To the silence-land of grace. 

Here the warrior and the statesman 
Come to take their sad farewell ; 

They are gathered to the bosom 
Of the State they loved so well. 

And beneath the shades of cypress 
They are sleeping well to-night, 

Waiting for a sound of trumpet 
That will call them up to light. 



Songs and Sonnets. 



FLOWERS. 

That picture of Paul Uccello's of the battle of St. Egidio, in 
which the armies meet on a country road beside a hedge of 
wild roses; the tender red flowers tossing above the helmets 
and glowing between the lowered lances. — Ruskin. 




HE great blue dome that stretches o'er 
my head, 
The stars by night, the roUing sun 
by day, 
Are seen not by the quick more than the dead, 
Altho' the beauty 's there, see all who may. 

Now hearts are wed to Mammon, and the eyes 

That should in this great handiwork rejoice 
Are seldom turned to the high-flowing skies; 

They never raise a truly thankful voice. 
Then flowers, too, bloom in vain, tho' nodding 
sweet, 

Are passed as if they were things of no use, 
And pushed aside or trampled under feet, 

Are hardly seen, and are but a refuse. 
Yet business, bloody wars, vain display, grief, 

Will hurry life, and death bring us relief. 




12 Songs and Sonnets. 

THE END OF WINTER. 

I. 

HE winter gloom is wrapped in spot- 
less snow, 
In dazzling brightness, making moody 
thoughts 
As light as air. The cheerful evergreens 
Standing along the lanes change for no winter, 
But gladden us across the plains of white. 
The splendor of the sun, o'er purple clouds, 
Between land and sky, gilds the broad white- 
ness. 
Can black thoughts stay amidst a scene like 

this? 
In darkest days, in longest nights, the snow 
Comes to enliven, and to rival heaven 
Itself in robes of beauty. 

II. 

Soon the sun 
Will melt away this carpet of the earth, 
Life will start in every field and wood. 
And then Spring, that never-failing goddess 
Of the earth, comes, touching with magic wand 



Songs and Sonnets, 13 

Cold, sleeping nature. Then the murmuring 

hills 
Will laugh in gladness, and upstarting flowers 
Will smile at us with joy. Yes, she will come, 
And from her lap will fling with blooming 

arms 
Her jewels to the woods, making the dells 
Quite overflow with verdure, and meadows 
A sheet of living green. She comes serene, 
Fanning with warmer breath the flowers spring- 
ing 
Fresh to meet her; comes to flush the flora 
Of this world, as a greater King will come 
To us, raising us up from death to life. 



OCTOBER. 

HE golden woods are rich and gay, 

The beauty deepens as it flies, 
Like dolphin in the ocean's spray 
Turns wondrous colors as it dies. 

The flowers have died, the birds have flown 
To fairer bowers, to greener leas, 

Where waving orange blossoms blow 
About in summer's fragrant breeze. 




14 Songs and Sonnets. 

Kind hearts are sad as nature dies ; 

When winter comes as death they mourn, 
And spring like resurrection smiles 

To celebrate creation's dawn. 

'Tis death in life, and when we sink 
Beneath the flowers so peacefully, 

We will have faith when we but think 
That we shall rise up joyfully. 

Sweet nature goes to rest in peace, 
But when she wakes 'tis ecstasy 

To hear the birds that never cease 
To celebrate the jubilee. 



LONGINGS. 

IS said wild birds in a cage 

Know the season of the year 
When they should to sunny climes 
Wing their way high in the air ; 

That the little things keep up 
Flutt'rings of the wings all day, 

Knowing they should then be off 
With their comrades on the way. 




Songs and Sonnets. 15 

In the spring oft mortals feel 
Constant longings for the way 

To a land they ne'er have seen, 
And the longing lasts all day. 

Can it be that in the breast 

Of the mortal and the bird 
A desire dwells for a rest 

In the far-off sounds they heard ? 



INDIAN SUMMER. 

HE Indians think, before the snows 

And frosts of winter blast the cheer. 
We have eight days of summer fair. 
The happiest weather in the year. 
The air so sensuous and still. 

The sun so low, like ball of fire. 
As if the summer had returned 

To bid farewell, and then expire. 
The birds seem singing very low, 
" Stay, summer, stay, why do you go?" 
Chrysanthemums alone remain 
To meet the winter's snow and rain. 
O happy season, why not stay! 
You only visit, then away. 




1 6 Songs and Sonnets, 




BEAUTY. 

Not that fair field 
Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, 
Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis 
Was gathered.— Milton. 

8[ADAME DE STAEL, the gifted, said 
one day 
She would give all her talents for 
the prize 
Of beauty, though the poorest woman may 
Possess it, and not from low station rise. 
Plain ones, take comfort, for a great duke 
spurned 
Sweet Georgiana, who was wed unto 
His Grace of Devonshire, whose love soon 
turned 
To hate, and led her but a life of woe. 
Beauty is often like a two-edged sword. 

Enticing, then both down together fall 
Into the unknown depths, where angry roar 

The waters, covering alike them all. 
Love for the plain ones is a real thing, 
While beauty's admiration oft takes wing. 



Songs and Sonnets. 17 



THE CHILDREN'S HOUR AT THE 
LAKE. 



\ 



VENING, with the sunset's red, 

Tunes our heart-strings high and gay, 
As a happy childish throng 
Forms for march in gentle play. 

March ! The merry pageant moves ; 

Each one overflows with glee, 
Walking in the blissful swell 

Of the music's fantasy. 

Promenading two and two, 

Happy eyes so full of glee, 
Life looks long, and life looks bright, 

Spirits running high and free. 

Gently falling into line, 

Forming for the children's dance, 
How they're longing for the fun, 

Joy beams forth in every glance. 

VioHns strike up the air. 

Cheerful, like the woodland's lay; 
As the children waltz about, 

Life seems but a holiday. 
3 



1 8 Songs and Sonnets. 

Music flows, now streaming out 
On the evening sunset red, 

Mixing with the sky and night. 
Joining with the children's tread. 

Should the Indians now return 
To this happy hunting-ground, 

They would wonder at the noise 
And the merry, laughing sound. 

Now we trust the swelling note 
Moving over lake and lea 

Does not haunt in Nature's bower. 
Piercing to her mystery. 

Still the music rises on, 

On to sweeter ecstasy, 
Clothing Nature with the spell 

Of her magic sophistry. 

Yet the children happy seem, 
And the little birds without 

Wonder what the noise can mean. 
And the joyous, merry shout. 




Songs and Sonnets. 19 



ARABIA. 

To them who sail 
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 
Mozambique, off at sea northeast winds blow 
Sabean odors from the spicy shore 
Of Araby the Blest. — Milton. 

HE deep blue sky, stretching far o'er 
the sands, 
With large, glowing stars shining near 
and bright, 
There show the way to winding caravans 
Across the trackless wastes, long thro' the 
night. 
The Mahometan there, at sound of bell. 

His dark face turns to Mecca, toward that 
stone 
Caaba that stands beside the holy well 

Zemzem, so named from its sweet music 
tone. 
The faithful call, "Allah, akbar, Islam," 

At the hour when these bowing millions 
think 
They then submit to God, and honor him 

Low prostrate, and thus inspiration drink. 
Araby's shores are perfumed, but her sands 
Waft her children in poor wandering bands. 




20 Songs and Sonnets. 



THE COMING MAY. 

T spring's awakening 

The birds come always first, 
Amongst the trees warbling 
As though their throats would burst. 

Upon the greensward bright 
The children weave in play 

Gay chains of flowery light 
To deck the coming May. 

A distant childish voice 

Comes over rosy seas, 
It bids my soul rejoice 

With thoughts of other leas. 

My fancies gently roam — 

A murmur in my ears — 
A longing for the home 

And joys of early years. 

The songs of other Mays 

Come sounding back from yore, 

As on life's nights and days 
We pass the blooming shore. 



i 



Songs and Sonnets. 21 

When winter's wind fierce blows 

The fireside scarcely cheers ; 
The voice of first love grows 

Much louder with the years. 

I weave her with the hours, 

Her dreamy face is there, 
As spring waves through the flowers, 

And songsters float in air. 

Sad fancies twine round now, 

Her coffin 'neath the lea. 
My thoughts so constant sow 

The fields that were to be. 

I know the world is fair. 

With hills of living green, 
The clouds float high in air 

Through sunlight so serene. 

The fountains in the sun 

Play with their glad delight, 
Then stars come one by one 

To make the jeweled night. 

The earth now laughs in glee. 
And flings up flowers of gold, 

O love is always free, 

And springs are never old ! 



22 Songs and Sonnets. 

The flowers are always mute, 
Tho' living fresh in spring, 

While birds like harp and flute 
Keep up the constant ring. 

The flowers are yet alive 
The same as birds that sing, 

And give unto the hive 
The sweetness of the spring. 

'T was just before the June, 
At ruddy close of day, 

She, laden with the bloom. 
Came bringing home the May. 

And though we older grow. 
And she has rested long, 

Her cheeks like roses glow 
And bloom within my song. 

I would not give my dead 
For fairest living bride 

That stands, deep blushing red, 
Decked at the altar's side. 

Her sister flowers lie still 
In winter on her mound. 

When spring notes ring out shrill 
The flowers start at the sound. 



Songs and Sonnets. 23 

But she sleeps gently on, 

Awaits perhaps a spring 
Much fairer than the one 

That birds to us now bring. 

Oft when my fire burns low 

I muse close at its side, 
And think how she might now 

Be my long wedded bride. 

She might sit like a Muse 

And cheer me with her lays, 
My moody thoughts diffuse 

With sunlight like the day's. 

She 's sitting over there, 

To me still in her youth, 
With ever waving hair — 

O would it were the truth ! 

'T is better for the guest 

To part soon in the eve. 
While anxious all the rest 

Desire him not to leave. 

A zest will always stay. 

And linger round the heart, 
For one who went away 

Before the time to part. 



24 Songs and Sonnets. 

Perhaps the fault is mine, 
That I have lived too long, 

And having passed my prime 
My soul flames up in song. 

When music stirs my soul 
It wakes forgotten dreams, 

That from my spirits roll 
And flow in golden streams. 

I faintly hear her sing, 
I heard her when a boy. 

But strains I now hear ring 
Are not the sounds of joy. 

The airs of early years 
Oft murmur by the hour 

Within my weary ears 

And challenge all my power. 

If singing then be wrong. 
The wild birds with their airs, 

Whose lives are only song. 

Should answer in their prayers. 

Then gardens full of flowers 
Were waving in my sight. 

But now in long past hours 
They lay in distant night. 



Songs and Sonnets. 25 

Ulysses who was tied 

By comrades to his mast, 
Heard songs that never died 

From sirens as he passed. 

From his sad journeys long 

What wonders he has told, 
The sirens' lovely song 

Within him deeply rolled. 

'T is well indeed for me 

The Muses came to earth. 
That poetry is free, 

And rhythm had its birth. 

The sorrows round the heart 

That throb through night and day. 

In verses oft depart 
And gently fly away. 

The days and nights of life 

Now simply come and go, 
My mind draws pictures bright. 

And paints in ruddy glow. 

A picture that in fact. 

Without the music's lay. 
Looks only white and black, 

Between the night and day. 
4 



26 Songs and Sonnets, 

In music-tones it seems 

To be in colors gay, 
And from the whiteness gleams 

A rainbow for the day. 

And from the stars of night, 
The time when mourners weep, 

It weaves a veil of light, 
A canopy for sleep. 

As twilight breaks at sea. 
And lights the distant morn, 

Hope often comes to me 
As faintly as the dawn. 

Sad Dante, the divine, 
His love saw but one day. 

And that before her prime, 
She passed near where he lay. 

The praises he has sung 
Will ring out for all time, 

And lyres are ever strung 
To join in with his rhyme. 

Are words of mine then vain 
For her who, now away. 

In sunshine and in rain 

With me walked night and day? 



Songs and Sonnets. 27 

It seems a passing show, 

The stars, the earthy crust, 
All changing as they go, 

And rolling into dust. 

The throbbing and the moan 

Of ocean on the land, 
With flowers so kindly sown 

By a wise master hand. 

The insect of a day 

That frolics in the light. 
With winged noiseless play, 

Then sinks in death at night. 

But my love died in morn, 

Before her lay was sung, 
A few years only born, 

Her day had just begun. 

If I could but go down 

To mystic realms of death, 
And seek until I found 

And rescued my lost wealth. 

But death will hold its own. 

Will keep her till the end. 
Will not by sign or tone 

A word of comfort send. 



28 Songs and Sonnets. 

She, young and very sweet, 
Fell in the grave from me, 

And shall we ever meet 
Through all eternity? 

As long as I keep breath 
I '11 hope on till the end, 

And in the hour of death 
Would to her comfort send. 

As ship in distant seas 
Sails past the lovely isles, 

The fragrance of the breeze 
Blows o'er the ship for miles. 

But soon the isles are seen, 
With sunny peaks thereon, 

To sink beneath the green 
In shine of evening sun. 

The islands seemed so fair 

While the ship passed them by. 

But soon they float to air 
In distant sea and sky. 

The sailor still looks back, 
With longing loving glance, 

Across the fiery track. 

Beneath the sun-ray's dance. 



Songs and Sonnets. 29 

My heart that seemed to break 

Is now without a sigh, 
My spirit peace would take 

And float on with the sky, 

The heaven's sunset red. 

Soft daffodil, and blue. 
Is nature with my dead? 

O love, it lives with you! 

Afar in amber west 

The sun appears to die, 
She whom I love the best 

Has mingled with the sky. 

Within the sunset glow, 

Deep in the flaming sea, 
My spirit seeks to go 

To immortality. 




30 Songs and Sonnets. 



THE JERSEYS. 

HE Jerseys, the Jerseys are gloomy 

to-night, 
The pine fires are burning with sor- 
rowful light, 
The ocean is beating a mournful low roar, 
A song that 'twill sing after we are no more. 

The land is quite dreary, the ocean is worse, 
The vessels are toss'd on a dangerous coast, 
Their beacon lights beckon so gently to me 
As I watch them intently, far out at sea. 

The cabin-boy looks at the lights on the shore, 
And he knows its the home of some one. The 

roar 
Of deep-tossing wave shuts them out from his 

view, 
And he turns to sleep with the rest of the crew. 

This sea -coast so barren is pleasant to me, 
The ocean's broad waste sets my light fancy 

free, 
My thoughts go out seaward and come back 

no more, 
The burden has left me I brought to the shore. 




Songs and Sonnets. 31 



A BABY KING. 

YRANT ruling without word, 

Ruling with an iron rod, 
We are running here and there, 
Bowing to the slightest nod. 

Here we have a real king. 

Swaying heads and swaying hearts, 
Though not of a royal blood, 

Still he charms us with his arts. 

Never Indian conjurer 

Held beneath his magic spell 

Supphants who on bended knee 
Worshiped, why they could not tell. 

Here 's a touch that none resist. 
Here's a laying on of hands 

Greater than a bishop's power 
In the holiest of lands. 

He entwines our hearts and hands 
In the mystic circle sweet, 

Making us a little world 

In the great world's busy street. 




32 Songs and Sonnets. 



THE OCEAN OF TIME. 

Full fathom five thy father lies ; 
Of his bones are coral made ; 
Those are pearls that were his eyes; 

Nothing of him that doth fade 
But doth suffer a sea-change 
Into something rich and strange. 
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: 
Hark ! now I hear them— ding, dong, bell. 

The Tempest, Act I. 

HE " cloud-capped towers " upon the 
land so firm 
Will pass away like the slight ocean 
wave, 
For Time will bring us all to his low term; 
From his sure edict nothing can we save. 
His billows roll alike o'er land and sea ; 

We are but dreams, and flow on with the tide. 
We look far o'er a sea of poetry 

Whose billows roll so ceasless far and wide. 
Beneath the waves, in coral grotto deep, 
Where wrecks are strewn and gems have 
turned to eyes ; 
Where seaweed twines midst shells, and none 
e'er weep 
For them that rest, quite undisturbed by sighs. 
But the sea moaning, deathless in its knell, 
Tells of the life now resting in its dell. 




Songs and Sonnets. 33 



UNBOUND. 

HERE lies a lovely lake midst wooded 

hills 
And peaceful farms, where dull, can- 
kering care 
Never enters. There the fisherman dreams 
Away the daylight ; there the sloping hills 
And laughing waters never knew the din 
Of commerce; the sleepy air lulls one; like 
The lotus-eaters we lose all desire 
For native land. To live is bliss ; moments 
Fly in musing. The waters, undefiled 
By streams of blood, retain their purity. 
At evening, when the lake reflects the fire 
Of heaven, music charms us, its strains flow 
Clear into each breast. Sorrows and desires 
Flee with music and leave the troubled heart. 
How the sweetness of the swell fills the mind 
To overflowing, and the sadder strains 
Grow soft with joy. Happy place, where mem- 
ory 
Casts its burdens and life is ecstasy ! 
O lovely spot, where music cures, troubles 
Fly away, and ambition is not known ! 
There we find rest, a flowery way to heaven. 
5 




34 Songs and Sonnets. 



THE CRUISE OF THE VESPER. 

T five o'clock one morning 
The Vesper sailed away; 
She looked so tall and stately- 
While passing out the bay. 

Her sides were strong and oaken, 
The sailors seemed so bright, 

They gladly raised the topsails. 
Their hearts were bounding light ; 

They sailed out on the ocean. 
Which, like the sea of Time, 

Calls loved ones to its bosom 
From every land and clime. 

There was no storm nor tempest, 
And no one saw a wreck, 

And no one brought a message 
From off the Vesper's deck. 

The sailing of the Vesper 

Was a funeral march 
Out to the depths of ocean, 

Beneath the coral's arch. 



I 




Songs and Sonnets. 35 



FANTASY. 

NE night in troubled sleep, afar, 

Came distant music, low and grand, 
A rosy light came streaming down 
From where the choirs of heaven stand. 

A band of spirits slowly chant 

A hymn of comfort, words of peace. 

To one who weary of this life 
Lay longing for a resting place. 

The angels beckoned, showed the way, 

I rose to go, when suddenly 
A wind of night air coldly swept 

Near where I lay, alarming me ; 

I turned, a siren speaking low, 

Whispered, "Not yet, O stay awhile." 

Then the bright spirits, coming near, 
Bade me to follow, sang, and smiled. 

A weird voice near me whispered low, 
" They are but phantoms, things of light. 

O stay upon the earth a time, 
O do not go with them to-night." 



36 Songs and Sonnets. 

The angels sweet then moved to go, 
At me looked longingly and sad, 

Unto me raised a farewell song, 

**0 come, O come, and leave the bad!" 

Their arms they held temptingly low. 
To carry me with them above, 

And looked so pleadingly, then the word, 
While caroling their songs of love. 

They slowly marched up in the light, 
Oft looking back with farewell eyes. 

So sadly waving their adieu. 

They gently rose up to the skies. 

The shadows dark then closing in 
Found me alone in solemn gloom, 

The voice was hushed that bade me stay. 
The darkness only filled my room. 

Why did I stay? that was the time 
For me to rise from earth on high ; 

why came demons of the night 

When angels sweet were sweeping nigh ? 

1 now am chained to things of clay, 
I often hear in dead of night 

The sound of demons gliding past, 
But nevermore those spirits light. 



4 



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Songs and So7inets. 37 



FRIENDSHIP. 

FT when a prisoner is brought 
Before a justice of the peace 
He has a friend, a friend in need, 
Who gives the bail and thus release. 
Although the world is very cold, 

And men are striving night and day. 
The chains of friendship still bloom on 

As though they had from Eden strayed. 
He is alone, yes, sad, alone. 

Who knows not one whose eyes grow bright 
At his familiar footsteps' tread. 

Whene'er it sounds in day or night. 
Yet in this world there now are some 
Who know no welcome, know no home. 





38 Songs afid Sonnets. 



SHAKESPEARE. 

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. 

The Tempest, Act I. 

SHAKESPEARE! what a tale for us 

is wrought 
From out your words, words that will 
never die ; 
In happiness our joys may here be taught 
To rest on wing, or yet still higher fly. 
In sorrow, consolation here doth reign, 

For man is but a pipe for fortune's play, 
And all the fancies that float through the brain 
May here take shape and have their little 
day. 
When the poor heart is full, as if to burst 

Its confines, he will solve the problem hard. 
In the long march of time youth dances first 
And age creeps on the last, all in this bard. 
The fancy floating, Nature's passing show, 
Have here a record with their joy and woe. 




Songs and Sonnets. 39 



LIGHT. 

Light, more light! — Goethe. 

HE faces in the street we so oft meet 

In daily life look sad and full of woe, 
As if bright joy to them did never 
greet, 
And burdens black of care had made them 
so. 
Some show their great anxiety and want, 

While others smile, as if they strongly tried 
To battle hard, but conquer care can not. 

Are carried down life's stream upon the tide. 
They seem to have been toss'd by land and 
sea. 
For he who laughs, he is the strongest man. 
Not haunted by the fears of what will be, 

In God his trust, and doing what he can. 
That which is done is done all for the best. 
So trust the future, and then be at rest. 



40 



Songs and Sonnets. 



NAPOLEON. 




IS ,said the great Napoleon had a plan 
To found a broad empire in the far 
East, 
And o'er the teeming millions of that land 

Reign years, and not on St. Helena cease. 
His desire Europe's empire could not fill; 

For in this life all success that we glean 
Will not be that for which we had the will. 

For what we in our childhood oft did dream. 
The legend says that when Ulysses went 

To lower regions down, and had to choose 
A station for his life, he there did scorn 

High place, and it with willingness did lose. 
He chose that of a common countryman, 
Who had not much to do upon his land. 



Songs and Sonnets. 41 



MIRACLES. 



HE age of miracles is always here : 
See. flowers spring noiseless up, the 
cause unknown; 
That sowing dragon's teeth did armed men 
rear 
Is no more strange than grain where seed 
was sown. 
And water that seems dead, yet quick sea 
waves 
Show life is there; but the great life is man's, 
When wisdom from the lower passion saves. 

For Nestor should give Hercules his plans. 
The farmer has strong faith who to the air 
His seed sows broadcast, and the harvest 
yields ; 
And it is well he does not see the care 

That the good morrow in the darkness 
shields. 
We can be sure of nothing ; all that seems 
Is no more true than were our last night's 
dreams. 



42 



Songs and Sonnets. 



OCTOBER. 




HE branches droop low in the gold of 
October, 
The woods now stand ripe in the 
low shining sun, 
The birds sweetly sing a requiem for nature, 
And soft breezes waft webs the spiders have 
spun. 



The sun takes his course like a golden ball 
rolling, 
The birds are now flocking to fly from the 
night, 
The red and the gold flames so high in Octo- 
ber, 
On earth and on heaven reflecting the light. 




Songs and Sonnets. 43 



HELEN. 

ENEATH the Southern skies fair 

Helen dwells, 
The fairest of the Southern flowers 
to me; 
She decks soft mossy banks with beauty's light, 
And presses warmer sands 'neath spangled 
night. 

She meets the coming spring fresh at the gate, 
And bright green nature welcomes, hand in 

hand; 
Perhaps affinity 'tween her and earth 
Inspires her heart with vernal love and mirth. 

She loves the spring, the spring loves her as 

well. 
They waltz together on the grass so green. 
They're kissing, youth to youth in bliss so gay. 
Their touching is the dawn of coming May. 

O Bowers of Roses ! Banks of Primrose sweet ! 
O bloom for her ! Her Spring and yours are 

one! 
She blooms to beautify the paths of life, 
As violets on battle-fields of strife. 



44 Songs ajid Sonnets. 

The Spring now claps its hands in newborn 

glee; 
The Southern breeze blows far from balmier 

climes ; 
It wafts the unheard tidings of my love 
From sunnier lands, with laughing blue above. 

OUR RED NEIGHBORS. 

HEY came in the morning 
Just as the day dawned, 
And pitched, near the meadow, 
Their tents on our lawn. 
We saw in the dim light 

Their tents on the green, 
They stood in their whiteness 
In sunshine serene. 

Perhaps they 're returning 

To claim what is theirs, 
Or why on our meadow 

Would they spread their wares? 
Or why in the daylight, 

So early in dawn. 
Would they nestle gently 

On our quiet lawn ? 




Songs and Sonnets. 45 

All that day we waited 

So peaceful to see 
What move our red neighbors 

Would make on the lea; 
They plaited their baskets 

And worked at their beads, 
And smoked there the peace-pipe 

Out under our trees. 

Next morn we rose early 

When lo! they were gone. 
The grass waved as ever 

O'er meadow and lawn; 
The red children left us 

In peace as they came, 
And never more visit 

Our quiet green plain. 

Oft in the blue morning 

The sun rises bright, 
And rolls from the mountains 

The mist in my sight. 
And shines o'er the woodlands 

So peaceful and light, 
I wonder where travel 

Our friends of one night. 



46 Songs and Sonnets. 



They never have come back 

To visit our lawn, 
To pitch 'neath the greenwood 

Their tents in the dawn ; 
They came here so gently 

And left as they came, 
We know nothing of them 

Not even their name. 



A KING IN DEATH. 

'ER ocean's depths, on far off rocky 

isles 
Whose peaks rise heavenward, there 
once dwelt a king, 
Otho, the well-beloved, who one eve 
When the sun sank in beauty in the sky. 
Had his throne brought forth and placed on 

high rocks, 
From there to behold the royal splendor 
Of sinking sun — looked upon the grandeur 
As a king looks unto king. The ships sailed 
By with their purple sails, and all seemed peace, 
His head drooped slowly, his eyes were set deep 
Into ocean's vaults. There he sat and gazed 




Songs and Sonnets, 47 

Until the stars began to glitter. Then 

A subject came and saw their monarch dead. 

Died as he had lived, a king. There he sat 

Mute, motionless — indeed a monarch still, 

As if he ruled over other kingdoms 

Not of this world — still well beloved, but dead. 

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS. 

N lands of drooping palms, 

Where summers come and go, 
Where children never hear 
Sweet carols o'er the snow, 
A child was lowly born, 

So humble and so poor, 
Whose parents sought repose 
Within a stable's door. 

On this dark Christmas morn, 

The first that ever dawned, 
A star came up so bright 

That wise men were alarmed. 
This was a ray of hope 

Sent to a darkened world ; 
Its light still calmly shines 

To cheer in winter's cold. 




48 Songs and Sonnets. 

This is the brightest gem 

That shines within our night, 
Without thee all 's despair — 

O shine out, feeble light ! 
When terrors surge around, 

And darkness covers me, 
I see that small bright star 

That sparkles out so free. 



THOUGHT AND ACTION. 

There are few who have at once thought and capacity for 
action. Thought expands but lames; action animates but nar- 
rows.— Goethe. 

N the far Orient, where kings still sway 
Their subjects poor with iron hand 
bold, - 
They sit upon their thrones until this day 

As if they had been cut from marble cold. 
It has been said that work we've here per- 
formed 
Is far too great for the result attained. 
When we have made our plans and had them 
form'd, 
The time has come to leave what we have 
gained. 




Songs and Sonnets. 49 

Few of the thoughts that wander thro' our souls 
Ever take shape or come up to the hght. 

Our thought's a flowing sea that ebbs and rolls 
Into the daylight first, then to the night, 

It may be brightest thought, like brightest bird, 

In never raising voice is never heard. 



THE ROSELLA. 

N the meadovv^ near the village 

Runs the sweet Rosella bright; 
How it sparkles in the daylight, 
Creeping first to left then right ; 
Now it murmurs in the whirlpool, 

Now it rests in placid calm, 
Like the greater stream of lifetime 
Through Fortuna's fickle land. 

Through the mountain gorge it thunders 

Like the powerful hand of Time, 
Running to our peaceful meadows, 

Anxious for the bright sunshine. 
In this shady pool I'm looking 

At my picture in its prime, 
It reflects quite other features 

Than the one in life's springtime. 
7 




50 Songs and Sonnets. 

How it glances with sweet rapture 

At the flowerlet on its bank, 
Prouder of its daisy decking 

Than a high peer of his rank. 
There 's a secret in its murmur, 

It seems trying hard to tell 
Something cool and quite consoUng, 

For I know the voice so well. 

Often in the midst of struggle. 

Pausing in the din of life, 
I quite plainly hear the gurgle 

Of my sweet Rosella bright. 
Now the mystic stream seems flowinj 

Close beside my stream of life ; 
I expect to hear its moaning 

When I turn aside from strife. 




Songs and Sonnets. 51 



CLARA. 

|IGH up in the light blue of heaven 
My thoughts oft go flying through 
space 

To the unknown land of hereafter, 
In dreams of my Clara's sweet face. 

Clara, I wish you were v/ith me, 

We would soar and sing on the way; 
The peace now within me forever 
Would charm us in quiet and stay. 

The harvest in fields is now ripening, 
And Clara stands breast-high in grain, 

The golden sun streams down upon her, 
Her beauty baptizing from stain. 

1 wish I knew what time will give her, 

I hope it will wrap her in bliss, 
That she never might wake from dreaming 
Till Death gives his sure silent kiss. 



52 Son^s and Sonnets. 



IN THE WOODS. 



pKgllTHIN these solemn shades the grand 

jj^ oaks stand 

flail In majesty, the high arched boughs 
o'erhead 
Bend o'er us as we walk and muse beneath 
The domes of green. All seems still and lonely, 
But when we listen then we find these bowers 
Not tenantless, but fairies of the woods 
On ev'ry side. As we walk the song-bird 
Sounds its loud warning, and the noisy world 
Of Ufe seems gliding quietly away. 
These deep green shades are healing for the soul, 
A sanctuary where the wounded rest. 
Man seems so small beneath these giant trees; 
These shadows are so friendly when we come 
From out the busy hives of men. High up 
In air above the latticed green we see 
The living blue, so bright, so pure, and free. 
O who would wish for fairer world than this, 
For this seems Paradise ! The leaves beneath 
My feet, the wood-bird's note, the insect hum, 
The sunlight through the trees, all are so lovely. 
This is for us a resting-place in life, 
A cloister for the soul. 




Songs and Sonnets. 53 



THE REAPERS. 

EAR the song of the reapers, 

While on their way to the fields ! 
Hear their sweet voices ringing 
Praise for the good harvest yield ! 



See the morn light-blue breaking 
Over the glad rested earth ! 

See the birds rise fresh singing, 
Hailing the far dawn with mirth! 

These disciples of Saturn 

Reap of the gold-ripened grain, 
Taking home for the storehouse 

Treasures of sunshine and rain. 

But the Great Reaper's harvest 
Gathers alike ripe and young. 

Bearing them home together, 
The harvest song yet unsung. 

Soon we shall all be taken. 
Alike the good and the bad. 

Trusting be left forsaken, 

Downcast made even more sad. 



54 Songs and Sonnets. 




In the gardens of heaven 

The young will remain there young, 
Ripe grain kept there in fullness, 

And heaven's harvest-song sung. 



MUSIC. 

EAR the tones as they softly 
Sink deep into every breast, 
Filling us all with longing — 
Hope for a far-off rest. 

Oft in the misty darkness 

Can I hear the strings at play, 

Bearing me off so gently 
To pleasure lands away. 

Soothe now our souls so restless 
With a sunny southern lay, 

Over a tossing ocean 

Flow on and cheer the way ; 

Fan us with wings outstretching 
To sleep on your unseen tide; 

Fly away to a stillness 
Over life's ocean wide. 




Songs and Sonnets. 55 

Now the sweet lays run quiv'ring 

Over the chords of the soul, 
Mingling with secret sorrows 

That with the far sea roll. 

The din of the deep music 

Shuts from us the constant roar 

Of the world with its scandals — 
We seem to touch that shore 

Where childhood's happy gardens 

Are flushed with rosy light ; 
Afar o'er the wide ocean 

Our sorrows take their flight. 



ETHEL. 

THEL at the gate of spring 

Decks the portals in her glee, 
Wakes the birds to hear them sing 
In the air of heaven free. 



In the grassy meadows wide, 

Plucking flowers so bright and gay. 

Weaving garlands in her pride, 
Smiling as the fountains play. 




56 Songs and Sonnets. 



THE POETS OF THE PAST. 

LOVE the bards who sing 

Of youth and beauty bright. 
Who drink the cup of joy, 
And hail the morning light. 

The lyres are blest that ring 

With everlasting peace, 
That tune us to the chords 

Of ecstasy, then cease. 

Once harpers sang the lay 

Of knights and deeds of arms, 

But now they 're silent all 
Beneath the mystic charms. 

The lyres once struck the air, 
" On, on to Palestine ! " 
Now minstrel, knight, and saint 
Lie leveled down bv time. 




Songs and Sonnets. 57 



THERMOPYL^. 

T was a foolish deed, 

They knew they could not win; 
The hero blood ran free 
Amidst the battle's din. 



These were all precious lives ; 

They built an altar high 
Upon the mountain pass, 

Beneath the Grecian sky; 

They taught a lesson well, 

Which we should heed to day, 

That Freedom has a price 
Too great for life to pay. 

Amidst the selfish strife 

We see in daily trade. 
How bright seems that fair morn 

In Grecia's mountain glade ! 

That was a glorious day 

That broke on deeds so brave, 
Its light is shining now 

On history's Hving page, 
8 



58 Songs and Sonnets. 

O bless those grand old braves 
Who died for you and me, 

And might we die as well 
To keep our country free ! 

WORKMEN. 

HE flowers upon the meadow keep 

rolling in their bloom, 
The breezes from the hillside are blow- 
ing the perfume 
To one weary of the fight, the daily strife for 

bread, 
To whom the earth looks bright like the heaven 
overhead. 

The blue is always cheerful, there must be 

something wrong 
That mortals can not frolic like warblers in 

their song; 
All nature is so peaceful, so happy, and so 

strong, 
Though we are part of nature, the mission is 

not long. 



Songs and Sonnets. 59 



The sky now flows above us, the blue sinks 

into me, 
The sailor midst the waves rolls into eternity, 
He sinks into the sea he loved, the azure o'er 

the lea 
Is my beloved ocean, fast flowing over me. 

At toil, O happy workman ! the world is bright 
for you ; 

In morn, O happy plowman ! the grasses in 
their dew 

With brilliants strew your pathway, set for the 
toiler's cheer. 

Who walk the face of nature, so honest with- 
out fear. 




6o Songs and Sonnets. 



REST. 

HE pines are tall and stately, they seem 

to touch the blue, 
They beckon down so gently, and bid 
us to be true. 
We sit here mildly gazing up to the sky so 

bright, 
And see the bright sun setting ; it rolls on to 
the night. 

The sunlight pours upon us its blissful happy ray, 

The thoughts keep soaring upward upon that 
unknown way, 

That all our predecessors have trod up to their 
God, 

As now we lie here dreaming upon the wood- 
land sod. 

The wood, the lake, the harvest, all lend their 

magic spell 
To weave the strong enchantment that holds 

us here so well. 
O may it ne'er be broken; that we might pass 

away, 
Mix with the sod beneath us, and be at rest 

to-day. 




Songs and Sonnets. 6i 



FAIRY ISLANDS. 

OME let us sail o'er the dark blue 
ocean, 
Sail for the islands where all may be 
blest ; 
There we may realize childhood's longing, 
Perhaps we may dream and evermore rest. 

Where are the friends youthful days oft prom- 
ised, 

Loves never came that we hoped to esteem, 
The islands may give the long-sought treasure, 

Place in our arms the sweet idol of dreams. 

Draped are the isles with low hanging cypress, 
Palm trees bow down with their weight of 
perfume. 

Breezes blow from us sad recollections. 

Flute tones fall soft over meadows abloom. 

Islands are floating like joys in the future. 
Till the horizon shuts them off from view — 

Now hear the music, and feel the longing; 
Come let us reach them, or sink 'neath the 
blue. 




62 Songs and Sonnets. 



ON THE SEA. 

HE sea! where the wild bounding 
breakers 
Dash up to our portals with glee, 
We laugh with the sunbeams that sparkle, 
And dance on the azure so free. 

O barque ! with your sails of pure whiteness 

Recalling to me the fair lands 
Where breezes are heavy with perfume 

That blow over tropical sands ! 

We rise and we fall with the billows, 
And plow through the foam of the sea ; 

The sun breaks so bright in the morning, 
And lights up the ocean for me. 

My heart rises high with the breakers : 

O why does it ever so chide ! 
We'll join with the clear rushing breezes, 

And glide with the fast flowing tide. 



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